Harry Appointed Tribe AA Counselor

For those of us in the tribe still living the life of billiards and beer commercials there is new hope. Since certain unnamed members hijacked the wagon and embarked on a journey too great for say, those of us who sleep on the couch or live in the basement, it has been hard to get plastered without feeling a little stupid. Before New Years, the firm, yet tenacious, grasp Miguel applied to his tall boy was all the aspiring drunk needed to get started on a all night bender. Now, in a state of sobriety, he wants to build bird feeders and start gay blogs like this one.
"He said he was my mother yesterday," one tribe member confessed anonimously. Although the drunks still outnumber the wimps at San Pedro, there is fear a new era defined by caffeine, level headedness, and possibly even medical marijuana will arise.
"I didn't know what to do," claimed a bornagain drunkard. "I felt alone in my desire to drink, so I did what I would normally do, that is go out drinking, alone. After consulting Muhammhed I knew it was Miguel who was wrong. I only needed a new role model to remind me drinking is good for you. Waking up hungover the next day, I went on a spiritual fast from food and even light, as Ghandi would have. The meaning of life evaded me. I wanted to sleep forever. Finally, I entered the outside world around three o'clock, searching for a spiritual guide. After finding no help from the people of the tribe, I laid on the floor to watch Sam fight the Roman Empire for his freedom. Hopeless, I felt. Then, the answer came from above, as in it actually crawled on me and laid down on my face. Through purring and gentle clawing, Harry reminded me why life was to be lived, and most importantly he did it without telling me I had to stop drinking. I've felt different since then. We now have daily AA meetings to give me the strength to continue drinking, and I have realized any desire to quit is actually a cop out."
Harry never attended school and has no credentials, but claims it is his life experience that is so crucial in his unique approach to alcohol counseling. His father was a stray. His mother a traveling alcoholic. He has been abandonded over and over again. Growing up he acquired asthma from the blistering cold, refusing to take his meds. He now walks with a slight limp, coughing occasionally, and carries the air of a dirty Englishman. He refuses to be brushed, claiming it is his filth that inspires people to drink. His success as an AA counselor can be found solely in his stubborness and complete refusal to take care of himself. Wherever his parents are, they should be proud of him, but maybe not proud of themselves.